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Text From Valhalla's Library: Odin And His Colorful Horses The story of Midgard and the Colorful Horses goes as thus: one day Frigg was nattering away at Odin, calling him by many a foul name and accusing him of being slothy when he wasn't being lustful, and lustful when he was not slothy. In short, she ordered him to find a hobby apart from philandering young maidens, much to Odin's frustration. But woman is the weakness of any man and Odin was no different, and to be fair, there never was and never will be again, a woman as great and terrible as his beloved and accursed Frigg. Many things were tried, and many things were failed: Odin had not the patience for the games and jests of Loki, and he had not the stomach for sailing with Frey or Njord. The Mysterious Three confounded him, and while he bore all the love in his heart for his son Thor, more than an hour spent by his son's side made his mind ache with his heir's incredible lack of mind. And Frigg would not let Odin near Freya, for she knew that it would end in them meddling with each other, and that was the hobby and habit Frigg was attempting to get Odin away from. One day, Odin stood with his closest adviser, Tyr the Left Handed; Odin favored Tyr most, not because of his loyalty, but because Tyr would always agree with him and did anything that Odin asked. They stood together upon a cliff, overlooking a field of their riding horses, as the great dark ravens Huginn and Muninn circled overhead, when Tyr did remark: “It is too bad that you cannot simply make friends with these animals, Odin. You get along with them far better than you do with any of us.” Odin's response was to push Tyr off the cliff, but after a moment of thought, he realized that his loyal friend was right. And it was then that an idea came to his mind: long had he watched other worlds and seen life over them, long had many warriors called upon his name for glory and honor, but never had he put his own touch upon any being. The horse was a symbol of strength, and if he could craft mounts of great strength, they would be useful in their warring against other gods and our worser enemies, the Jötnar... and even better, it would get Frigg to cease her endless scorn, if only until she thought of something else to harass him over. Settling upon this plan, Odin soon began: he found an uncultivated world that came to be known as Midgard, for its position between the Nine Realms. Using his great knowledge, he created mighty steeds, each given a different color and a different name: they had wings for flight, and horns of the rarest material, through which could focus the divine gift of magic. Odin, ever cunning, knew that magic was not the tool of the honorable: but these were horses, who would be able to be trained to channel that magic upon their own and call on the gods' gift by instinct. Therefore, the wiles of feminine magic would not fall upon the rider. The horses bred, and soon multiplied, and for a time Odin forget about his project as he was called away to war, and began to pursue his old pleasures. But when war time ended, and Frigg again caught his lechery, Odin was sent back to gaze upon the Colorful Horses and found with surprise they had spread across the world, and more, they had changed: some had lost their wings and horns, and some had one or the other. Few retained both... and yet they had begun forming not simply herds, but societies. Odin, amazed, took upon a magical disguise and went to the world, to walk among his creations, and inspect the Colorful Horses. These were mere animals, and thought to be nothing but toys he'd created to cease Frigg's endless harping, and yet now they were more. Odin did not know what to think or do, but soon, he began to spend more and more time watching the Colorful Horses, fascinated by his own creation. They became a distraction and an entertainment, and Odin could not shake the feeling that one day, the Colorful Horses he'd created would serve a purpose even greater than as Valhalla's battle steeds... Top ↑